


Sunsets at Dewey Junior High

by agentz123



Series: Donsy Week 2020 [4]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Awkward Daisy Duck, Awkward Donald Duck, Awkward Scrooge McDuck, DT87 References, Dad Scrooge, Donsy Week 2020 (Disney), F/M, Puberty, The Struggles of Adolescence, The Struggles of Middle School, Three Cabs References, Title Based on Dewey's Dream in "A Nightmare on Killmotor Hill!", Wingman Della
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentz123/pseuds/agentz123
Summary: While facing the trials and tribulations of adolescence, Donald meets Daisy Duck.Donsy Week, Day 3 - AU
Relationships: Daisy Duck & Fethry Duck, Della Duck & Fethry Duck, Donald Duck & Della Duck, Donald Duck & Fethry Duck, Donald Duck & Scrooge McDuck, Donald Duck/Daisy Duck, Gladstone Gander/Magica de Spell, Scrooge McDuck/"Glittering" Goldie O'Gilt
Series: Donsy Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939792
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

Della kicked her dresser. This was not fair. Why, why, why did stupid Scrooge have to come in here and have that stupid talk about stupid age! Now she felt even more left out. All of her friends were already having to buy things like deodorant and tampons, and here she was, still resorting to getting up a few minutes early to stuff toilet paper down her shirt. 

Ugh. She felt exhausted. 

Her door cracked open, and she could see her brother’s enormous beak poking into her room. “Um, Della?” 

“What?” 

He stopped twisting on the hem of his shirt to rub the back of his neck. 

She repeated herself. “What, doofus? If it’s nothing you can get out of my room, please.” 

“What do girls like?” he blurted. 

A mischievous smile started growing on her bill as she yanked him inside. He knew that he was going to regret this…

“Why do you asssssssssk?” she sang. 

“Um...well...there’s this girl --” 

“Daisy Duck from science?” 

“How did you know!” 

“Uh, we can practically see the hearts forming in your pupils whenever you look at her.” 

Donald groaned in humiliation. Was it that obvious? Was it that obvious to _Daisy?_ That’s it. He’s dropping out. It’s final. 

“So, what do girls like, you ask? Hm…” Lightbulb! “Flowers! Get her flowers!”

“Um...which kind?”

“ _Daisies, dummy!_ ” 

“Oh...right. Good idea.” He started to rush out the room, but paused in the doorway. He started kicking at the carpet sheepishly. “Can you come with me? I don’t know how to tell if they’re ripe.” 

“Sure, I can -- did you just say _ripe?_ WOOF.” 

“Hey, cut it out!” 

“Don, you just admitted you have feelings for someone. I’m never gonna cut it out. Now let’s go.” 

Unbeknownst to them, Scrooge McDuck had been standing in the hallway near Della’s door. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop -- he really was on his way to the attic -- but he just couldn’t help himself. 

“Donald? Can I speak to you for a moment?” 

“Um...sure…” Why was he being so weird? Donald slid into the study behind him. 

“Go ahead and close the door and have a seat. I overheard ye and Della discussing...Daisy, was it?” 

“Uncle Scrooge!” he muttered under his breath, blushing. 

“It’s okay, lad! I know all about young love --” 

“Please don’t let this be another conversation about Goldie O’Glit!” 

“It’s not,” he snapped, also turning red. “It’s about ye. Yer nearly thirteen now, and, well...look, lad.” He exhaled deeply. “A lot of changes are going to be happening to your mind, and your body --” 

“Ack! Ew, Uncle Scrooge! DELLA! HELP!” 

Scrooge managed to lean over the desk and hook his cane around Donald’s waist before he had a chance to escape. 

“We need to have this conversation, Donald!” 

“No, we don’t!” Donald grunted in exertion, trying to wrestle his way out of his uncle’s grip. Why didn’t the duck just kill him already? 

Scrooge continued. “Like...having crushes, or...voice changes!”

Donald paused. 

“O-okay! So you’re saying I’m not going to sound like this for the rest of my life?!”

“Well --“

“Quackaroni! Things are finally looking up for me! Thanks, Uncle Scrooge!”

Donald threw down the cane and ran out of the study before Scrooge could utter another word. 

Scrooge sighed. 

***

Donald awkwardly stood against the lockers near the entrance of his fifth period science class with a wilting bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. He craned his neck anxiously in a search for Daisy. He really hoped she wasn’t absent today…

“Don!” 

He jumped. “ _What?_ ” 

“Did you see her?” 

“Obviously not, Dumb --” 

“Do you smell that?” 

“I swear, Della, if you say it smells like popcorn --” But Donald smelled it too. _Fire!_

“The flowers! H-how?!” he sputtered, running into the lab and slamming the petals into the sink near the emergency shower. He yanked on the cord a few times, causing the faucet to spit out dust before putting out the fire and drowning Donald in the process. 

And, just his luck, Daisy walks through the door. 

“Hi,” Donald panted, still a bit winded from coughing out water. He attempted to lean against the sink coolly, but missed. Thankfully, she wasn’t too mean about it, since she waved at him on her way to her seat. 

_Score!_


	2. Chapter 2

“Okay. Plan B: chocolates.” Daisy handed her brother a heart shaped container that she had bought with the change that, with a stroke of sheer luck, she had found in his piggy bank. 

Donald stopped swinging his feet in confusion and stood from his mattress in order to take the box. “Why are you guys always in the mood for these, anyway?” 

“Don’t worry about it. Now I casually slipped the topic into conversation and found out that Daisy likes --” 

“Wait a second. How ‘casual’ was it exactly, Della?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” she repeated. “Anyway, she likes dark chocolate. You two really are perfect for each other, because only weirdos like that kind of stuff.”

He stuck his tongue out at her. “Well, that was easy.” 

“Of course it was! That’s why people call me the ‘Love Doctor.’” 

“No one calls you that,” he deadpanned. 

“Whatever. Now, come on. I promised to kick your tail feathers in _Double Dash,_ remember?” 

"Race you." 

They ran into Gladstone on the top of the staircase. Donald immediately felt sick to his stomach. “What are _you_ doing here?” 

“Ah, Dels and Donaldo! How you guys doing?” 

“Sh!” Della warned. “Uncle Scrooge has been real weird lately. Don’t let him catch you upstairs.” 

Gladstone chuckled. “Don’t worry about that. He’s not even home. Something about some emergency business at the bin.”

Donald’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. But whatever you do, _don’t_ go into my room.” 

“Come down whenever you want to join us!” The twins continued down into the den. 

Why would he even need to go into D-Money’s room? That guy was the strange one. Gladstone continued down the hall. 

“Woah, twenty dollars! And...a box of chocolates? That’s new.” He looked around and found himself in front of Donald’s bedroom. He opened the box and tasted one. He immediately spit it back out into his hand. “Aw, phooey. _Dark_ chocolate?” Why would his luck do that to him? Before he could really wonder what might be going on, Gladstone’s phone started to ring. It was an unknown number, but he shrugged and answered anyway. “Um...helloooo?” 

On the other end, there were a bunch of giggling girls trying to shush each other. “Erm,” one spoke up. An incredibly _hot_ one. He could tell without even seeing her face. Gladstone immediately smoothed back his hair, even though it was already perfect. “Is this Gladstone? Gladstone Gander?” 

“Who wants to know?” 

The laughing started up again. “This is Matilda.” 

“Oh?” 

“Um, yeah. I noticed you’re in my English class. And...I noticed that you’re kinda cute.” 

“Oh?” 

"Yeah. And I was wondering if you’d wanna maybe go out sometime?” 

What the heck. “Sure. I’ll bring the chocolates.” 

One of Matilda’s friends screeched a very high _no way._ Gladstone pulled away from the receiver, opened the camera, held the box against his cheek, and sent a quick selfie to Matilda. Everyone started screaming again. 

“How did you know that I liked dark chocolates?!”

“Well, I kinda noticed you, too…” 

***

“Okay. The chocolates are gone. Of course.” Donald started mumbling under his breath. There was also a ginormous hole in his window now. Maybe some sweets-loving vulture came through and stole them. Because who gets all of the bad luck? 

“Hey, hey. It’s fine. I’m sure Daisy likes you back, even if you don’t get her a present.” 

“Hah!” he shouted. 

“ _Fine._ ” Boys are so annoying! Della rubbed her chin in thought before snapping her fingers in realization. “Poetry! We love poetry! Aren’t you always jotting something down in that little book of yours? Let’s see it!” 

“Absolutely not!”

Della threw her hands in the air. “I’m pretty sure there’s some good stuff in there, Donald! Stop being such a baby!” 

“There’s nothing in there worthwhile,” he admitted. 

“How do you know? Come on…” She started scanning his room, but Donald immediately put an end to that. 

“Leave.” 

“But --” 

“Thanks for all of your help, Della, but I’m done. It probably wasn’t meant to be.” He gently pushed her out of his room and shut his door.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, Daisy. This was the day. The day she promised herself to finally talk to Donald Duck. It was perfect, too. The class had managed to finish their lab assignments early and their teacher allowed them to go ahead and start their weekends five minutes before the bell. So Daisy decided to accidentally bump into him at his locker. What a horrible misfortune. 

“Oops! Sorry. My mistake. Oh...you’re Donald, right?” But of course she knew who he was. She’d been ogling over him in science class for half of the semester. She loved the way he always tapped his pen against his thigh when he was unsure of an answer, or how he wasn’t afraid to get into an argument with the teacher whenever she said something absolutely stupid. His laugh whenever Della leaned over and whispered a joke in his ear. And that adorable bang, ugh!

“Oh,” he squeaked, his quack being broken by an abrupt change in pitch. He felt something weird happening but he didn’t dare look. Instead, he quickly lowered his textbooks. “Yes. Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” he repeated, his voice getting worse. He wished he could glue his beak shut, but unfortunately he was experiencing the more severe effects of cottonmouth and wasn’t producing enough spit to do so. 

Daisy curled her perfect feathers around her perfect finger. “So, I was wondering if you’d --” 

“Donnie! Mommy said that since Whitewater is sick, you were going to walk me home today!” He quickly turned to Daisy. “Hi, I’m Fethry! Did you know that Donald drools a lot in his sleep?” 

“Um --” _That’s enough, you little jerk!_ “Della will get you today, Fethry! I’ll see you later!” 

“You promise?” He held out his wing. Donald quickly stepped away from Daisy and quickly grasped it, pulled him into a hug, and pecked him on the head. 

“Now shoo.” He turned back to her. “The kid was just kidding. About the drooling thing. Anyway, what were you saying?” 

“Oh, yeah. I wanted to see if you would be interested in --” She frowned as a large shadow blanketed Donald. She looked past him at the glowering form of Peg-leg Pete (she had no idea why everyone called him that; both of his legs were perfectly fine). 

“Yes? Interested in what?"

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Donald Duck,” Pete growled, accenting the last few words with quacking sounds. Donald felt himself burn in humiliation. 

“Shut _up,_ Pete.”

“Shut _this_ up!” Pete reached over and knocked the books out of Donald’s hands. His eyes widened before he started chuckling. He resumed the quacking. “Aw, little Donald has a hard-on for Daisy.” 

“I do not!” he yelled, unintentionally gathering even more attention. He yanked on the front of his shirt. Please, Pete. Throw him into a trash can, give him a noogie, take his lunch money. Anything but this. 

The teasing was relentless. “What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

There was a loud ringing. Saved by the bell. “I -- I gotta go!” 

Daisy reached out for him. “Donald, wait --” 

She didn’t even get the chance to ask him. She sighed and bent over to gather up his notes. “You’re a first-class jerk, Pete. Do you know that?” 

Hah, he did. And he was proud. 

***

Duckworth paused his dusting when he heard someone come through the door. “Good afternoon, Master Don -- is everything all right?” 

“My life is over!” he screeched while he stomped up the stairs. He slammed his bedroom door hard enough to knock out some of the plaster in the ceiling. Duckworth sighed and headed towards the broom closet for the vacuum. 

“Stupid -- idiotic -- piece of garbage! I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” 

Donald reached under his pillow and yanked out his notebook. He immediately began ripping out his feelings and tossing them around the room. “ _I can’t believe I did that!_ ” 

He wasn’t even angry. He was _numb._ He threw himself onto his bed and buried himself under his sheets. 

There were a few sharp knocks on Donald’s bedroom door. Without lifting his head from his pillow, he reached over and turned up his radio in an attempt to drown out the visitor in bass. Louder knocking ensued. 

“Leave me alone!” he sobbed. 

“Just open the door,” Della nudged. Fethry nodded his head furiously in agreement. Donnie hated being alone when he was sad. 

“Are you sure? He won’t get mad?” 

Della was shocked. She didn’t expect headstrong Daisy Duck to be scared of her brother’s temper. Unless there was another reason she was afraid of going in there…

_Oh._

“Trust me.” 

Daisy pushed on. She found a shaking pile of blankets on his bed after turning on the light. 

“I, um. I brought back your books, Donald.” 

That did _not_ sound like Della. He quickly wiped his tears before revealing himself. He turned off the radio and thanked her with a sniffle. He scooted a bit as an invitation for her to have a seat. 

“Things are kinda weird for me, too,” she admitted, breaking the silence. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Just the other day, I had to borrow a pair of pants from the nurse.” They both laughed nervously before looking away from each other. In the shadows, a guitar shimmered and Daisy’s eyes widened. She _loved_ guitarists. “Do you play!” 

Donald squirmed once he found what she was looking at. “Um, a little.” 

She jumped up and carefully brought the instrument over to him. In a fierce whisper she said, “Please! Let me hear something!” 

He took the guitar shyly and took his time tuning it, hoping to deter her and push her away once and for all. 

It didn’t work. 

He held his breath for the entire composition. To his surprise, he received applause. 

“That was beautiful! Are there words?”

After making a split second decision, he reached down and gathered up the few sheets of paper he had tore out a few minutes ago. After organizing them, he offered them to Daisy in a fit of bashfulness. She quickly pushed them back. “What are you giving them to me for? I thought you were the singer, Mr. Big-Shot,” she chuckled. 

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Daisy was maybe the only person in school who hadn’t teased him for his voice, but she definitely will after she hears him sing. “Are...are you sure?”

She nodded furiously. 

He cleared his throat a few times, praying that the voice change Uncle Scrooge was talking about would strike. 

“ _You belong to my heart,  
now and forever  
And our love had its start  
not long ago…_”

His voice trailed off. Why did he have to pick _this_ song? It was so intense, so personal, _so obviously about her._

He looked over. She was smiling at him expectantly, tapping her fingers against her kneecaps in improper rhythm. He began nodding so that she would catch up. 

“ _We were gathering the stars  
while a million guitars  
played our love song...  
When I said, ‘I love you,’  
every beat of my heart said it too…_

“ _It was a moment like this,  
do you remember?  
And your eyes threw a kiss  
when they met mine!_

“ _Now we own all the stars  
and a million guitars  
are still playing...  
Darling, you are the song  
and you'll always belong  
to my heart…_”

“Are they kissing yet?” they heard Fethry screech, causing Daisy to blush harder. 

“That was really sweet, Donald. Do you have more?” 

“Y-you want to hear more?” 

“Of course! You’re amazing! Have you ever thought about starting a band?” 

A million guitars were still playing once the stars came out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song used here is from the Three Caballeros movie, "You Belong to My Heart" sung by Dora Luz.


End file.
